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altogether.”
    “He’ll be well enough t’travel soon.” Kirstin assured her, glancing at Darrow, thrashing on the bed now. He was clearly waking up.
    “I’m well enough now,” Darrow muttered. Kirstin smiled. It was good to hear his voice. “If ye’d stop givin’ me that witch’s brew, I’d be on me horse and... Laina?”
    Darrow went up on an elbow, the sheet falling down his chest to his waist, revealing the bandage that wrapped around his middle. He rubbed his eyes, blinking.
    “Where’s Laina?”
    “She’s here,” Sibyl assured him, pressing Laina closer to the bed so he could peer at his mate. “You’re feeling no pain because of that witches brew, Darrow. But if you keep pushing yourself, you’re going to pull those stitches and bleed out.”
    “He’s a wulver, not a man.” Laina pushed him back on the bed in spite of her words, covering him again with the sheet as she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “He’ll heal much faster than ye’re used to.”
    “I understand that, but he’s a very lucky wulver, given his wounds,” Sibyl reminded her softly.
    “Raife.” Darrow blinked up at the ceiling. “We need t’go. Where’s Raife? And what’s that MacFalon doin’ in m’room?”
    He tried to get up again, but Laina succeeded in keeping him down with another kiss, this one pressed to his lips.
    “The tonic I give him for pain makes him wake confused,” Sibyl explained softly to Kirstin. Then she spoke loudly to Darrow. “Donal is the laird of Clan MacFalon now, Darrow. He is honoring the wolf pact. We’re safe here. I don’t want you riding a horse just yet.”
    “Where’s Raife?” Darrow asked the ceiling, then looked at his mate, frowning. “Where’s m’brother? Raife! Raife!”
    He yelled Raife’s name so loudly Kirstin thought he might tear his stitches just from the force of the word. It seemed to echo throughout the whole castle.
    “Donal, do you know where Raife is?” Sibyl asked, standing and pressing a hand to Darrow’s chest, helping Laina keep him in bed.
    Donal gave her a pained look. “He will’na come, if’n yer in ’ere, Sibyl...”
    “Why?” Darrow pushed Laina aside, glaring at Donal.
    “He won’t be in the same room with me,” Sibyl confessed, tears coming to her eyes.
    “He b’lieves ye left ’im fer Alistair.” Darrow’s gaze narrowed at her. “Did ye? Why did ye come ’ere, Sibyl?”
    “She was tryin’ t’save yer hide,” Kirstin snapped, wagging her finger at him. Then she looked around the room, putting a hand on Sibyl’s quivering shoulder. “All of ye. She was goin’ t’exchange herself for Laina, t’keep t’wulver pack safe.”
    “Alistair would never’ve let t’wulver woman go,” Donal said softly. He was speaking to Kirstin—she had the feeling that the rest of the people in the room had heard this already. “His intention was t’kill all t’wulvers.”
    “Why?” Kirstin asked, giving him a long, puzzled look. “The MacFalons’ve honored t’wolf pact fer years.”
    “He claimed t’was an order from King Henry, but given that Henry’s sent ’is huntsman t’help us dismantle the wulver traps, I do’na b’lieve it.” Donal glanced around the room, from person to person, and Kirstin felt the weight of his words as he spoke. “I think m’brother felt threatened by t’wulvers. Especially after they kidnapped ’is bride.”
    “I wasn’t kidnapped,” Sibyl protested with a snarl that any wulver would have been proud of. “I ran away.”
    “Aye,” Donal agreed. “But Alistair did’na wanna b’lieve that, ye ken?”
    “But why defy t’English King’s wishes and break t’wolf pact?” Kirstin asked him. “I do’na understand...”
    “He was m’kin, but I will’na make excuses fer ’im.” Donal told her with a sad shake of his head. “He was a cruel and duplicitous man.”
    “It’s been awful.” Sibyl’s voice shook and she cleared her throat, blinking back her tears.